Gets her revenge. On Nick. On them. Delaney glanced around the office, the stables beyond, her mind filled with horrific thoughts of flames and destruction. In the past, Jillian had chosen fire as the method to exact her revenge on a rival hotel. Delaney gulped. Would she do so again?
Chapter Three
Jack Foster pushed in through the front door of Whiskey Joe’s bar in need of a drink. Twiddling his thumbs as he waited for his trial against Troy Parker was not his idea of fun, but his mother insisted he stay in town for trial prep. The attorney she hired out of Nashville had a busy schedule and Jack needed to be available. At the guy’s whim, he mused sourly. The man might be decent when it came to a courtroom, but he was arrogant, refusing to give Jack more than an hour’s notice when he or one of his people were in town to work on the case. Usually one of his peons. Too busy for menial evidence collection himself, the guy had only made two appearances, one in the beginning for a quick meet and greet and one a week ago, at his mother’s behest. She wanted to firm things up, make sure there weren’t any loose ends that needed tying—around Troy’s throat.
During the meeting, the guy had the gall to try and convince Jack to drop the charges, on account of it was a “he said-she said” deal with two against one, compounded by the fact Delaney and Troy were longstanding members of the community. And he wasn’t? Living in Nashville for the last ten years didn’t negate the value of his family’s reputation in town. Jack’s daddy owned the biggest bank for a hundred miles and their ranch was the finest three counties wide. If that didn’t equate to upstanding member of the community Jack didn’t know what did. Especially against a kid with a troubled past.
Jack sized up the Whiskey Joe’s lounge crowd. Unlike the bars in Nashville, this place was cramped in size, poorly lit and smelled like they hadn’t cracked a window in years. Two couples were seated at high-tops located on the opposite side of a dance floor while a few guys sat hunkered over the bar. Pretty slim-pickings. What did he expect for a Wednesday night in a Podunk town?
As he cruised to an open center seat, a guy three stools over threw back a swallow of his drink. His profile caught Jack mid-stride and he practically stumbled. Medium build, sandy blond hair, bright royal blue button-down, but it was the guy’s mannerisms that rang familiar.
Was that Ladd? Smacking a hand to the bar, Jack’s focus zoomed in on the man. Well, I’ll be...
It is! That’s Jeremiah Ladd. Without hesitation, Jack walked over and asked, “Jeremiah?”
Maintaining a hand on his glass as it sat on the bar, the man looked up. Light brown eyes were framed by hard lines. It took a second, but the mistrustful gaze melted away. “Jack Foster?”
“One and the same,” Jack replied happily.
Swiveling on his seat, Jeremiah opened into a smile. “Wow. How long has it been? Ten, twenty years?”
Jack leaned a hip against the bar and said, “Gotta be at least twenty. Last time I saw you, you were on your way out of town with the cops nipping at your tail.”
Jeremiah chuckled, easing back in his seat. “Now you know I didn’t have anything to do with robbing that gas station.”
Jack smiled. He didn’t care one way or another. “Did they ever catch up with you?”
“Nope. Never did.”
Glancing to a bartender making his way over, Jack asked, “Mind if I join you?”
“Have a seat,” Jeremiah offered and squared himself with the bar.
“What’ll it be, sir?” the bartender asked. No more than twenty-one years of age, the kid looked barely legal to serve alcohol. For a moment, Jack felt old. A brief moment. Flicking a glance to Jeremiah’s glass, the amber liquid glimmering in the dim light, Jack ordered, “Jack Daniels. Neat.”
“Coming right up.”
Jack half-watched the kid as he grabbed a black-labeled bottle, uncapped it and poured the whiskey into a glass. Jeremiah took another sip from his drink as the bartender delivered Jack’s. “Start a tab?”
“Sure.”
Without another word, the young man headed back down the bar to a cash register where he rang in the sale. Then he grabbed a paper ticket and jotted down a note. Jack pulled a deep swallow of whiskey, a whiff of alcohol flaring his nostrils as the liquid fired down his throat. That was a long time coming.
“So how the hell have you been, Jack? Last I heard, you were carousing the streets of Nashville.”
“Was, until some sweetheart sicked her ill-tempered boyfriend on me.” Jeremiah’s laugh was quick and hearty. “Damn near busted my jaw and got me fired.”
Raising his glass, Jeremiah smirked. “Broads.”
Jack grunted. “Speaking of broads, I hear you and my ex had a bit of a run-in last time you were in town.”
“Is that what she called it?”
Jack shrugged. “She wasn’t doin’ the telling, but I gathered you two went at it over the property.”
“Ladd Springs belongs to me,” Jeremiah said, a veil of anger dropping over his gaze. Thinly veiled, it was palpable. “She and her daughter swindled it from Ernie before he died, and I aim to remind them of the fact.”
The venom spitting from Jeremiah’s eyes gave Jack pause. Maybe the rumors were true. He’d heard Jeremiah had threatened to kill his old man. Looking at him, he believed every word of it. Jeremiah’s hazel eyes were grayed. Flat. “Delaney and I had our own run-in a while back.”
His interest caught. Jeremiah lifted his brow. “What kind of run-in?”
“She pulled a gun on me and had her little boyfriend jump me.”
“Little?” Jeremiah sneered. “The guy’s a monster.”
Jack chuckled at the mistake. “Not her husband. Troy Parker. I think the two have something going on.”
Jeremiah gaped at him. “The twin? The bullish one?”
“That’s him,” Jack said, sucking back another swig of whiskey, satisfied to see Jeremiah’s wheels churn with malice as he connected the dots. Stoke the flame. Make waves. The more people sided against Delaney the better. “He’s a punk and I’m taking him to court.”
A grin swept the disbelief from Jeremiah’s expression. “I wouldn’t mind a crack at that kid myself. He was taking a hit at my woman when she was in town, and I’d like to see him pay. What’s the charge?”
“Criminal assault with a deadly weapon should do the trick.”
Jeremiah’s pleasure deepened. “That’s a felony.”
“Should put him away for a while, give him something to think about.”
With a shake of his head, Jeremiah chortled, then tossed back another swallow. “Nice to know I’m not the only one who isn’t a fan when it comes to Delaney Wilkins.” Nailing him with a fleeting glance, Jeremiah added, “I mean, I know she’s your ex and all, but that woman needs to be taught a lesson.”
“Agreed. I take it kinda personal when a woman points a gun at my head.”
Jeremiah nodded. “And you say Troy helped her?”
“Backed her up and made it two against one.”
“Damn.”
“You know he knocked your kid up, right?” Jeremiah’s expression closed, as though he didn’t have a kid. “Annie's daughter, Casey? He got her pregnant then left town. Ditched her but he’s back.”
Jeremiah’s gaze soured. “So I heard...”
“Did you also hear that Annie married my brother?” Jack rubbed his fingers together. “She hit the jackpot. Cal has money. Big money.”
“Really?” Jeremiah drew the word out as he visibly appraised the situation. “Well, that sounds interesting.”
“Yeah. He’s managing the new hotel and thinks he’s Mr. Big in town.” Bitterness curdled on Jack’s tongue. “Well I’m gonna take care of him, too.”
“How so?”
“The good old-fashioned way. I’m gonna cause him grief right where it hurts. Delaney, too. I’ve had it up to here with her,” he said, taking a swipe at his throat.
Jeremiah rolled his lips and finished the last of his whiskey. Plunking it down
, he summoned the bartender. Jack finished the last of his and ordered another round with Jeremiah.
Talk of Delaney and Cal sharpened an edge in him. It grated on him that Cal had been given the position as General Manager. What experience did he have? Momma said he managed a retirement community in Arizona, a far cry from running an international hotel. Delaney was head manager of the stables, as if she knew anything about being a boss. She knew horses, he’d give her. But people?
Delaney’s people skills left a lot to be desired. Felicity was the rising star. She was young and beautiful and talented... Jack had been looking forward to reestablishing a relationship with her and then rubbing Delaney’s nose in it. He wanted to prove that his daughter took after his side of the family, with a future beyond the four corners of this stale town. Who was Delaney to stand between a man and his daughter, preventing them from forgiving the past and moving forward?
But she did. Delaney stepped in it thick, filling Felicity’s head with lies so she turned against him, too. Grabbing the fresh glass of whiskey, Jack drank deeply. The alcohol cut across his tongue, raced down his limbs and pummeled the tension from his muscles. Delaney would be sorry. They all would.
“Well,” Jeremiah offered, “maybe I can help you out with your Delaney problem.”
“Help me out?”
“Seems to me we have a common goal—payback against Delaney.”
“You have something in mind?”
Jeremiah’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, I have something in mind all right, and the gears have started to shift.”
Enclosing his palm around the low-ball, Jack cocked a brow. “You have my attention.”
“Jack Foster.” The familiar purr of familiarity yanked his cord, spinning him around in his seat. Jillian Devane smiled, a naughty gleam entering her tiger-eyed gaze as she said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
His pulse skipped. “Jillian. I didn’t know you were in town.” Dressed in skintight jeans and strappy gold heels, her fitted satin tank shimmered creamy gold in the subtle lighting.
Flashing cat eyes toward Jeremiah, she replied, “I only just returned.”
Standing abruptly, Jack reached out for her. “What brings you back?”
“Business, darling. Urgent business that could not wait.” She drew a finger along Jack’s collar and up his neck, igniting his libido. Deepening her smile, she said, “It’s nice to know you’ve missed me, cariño.”
“Who wouldn’t miss a beautiful woman like you?” Jeremiah asked.
Jillian turned her attention to Jeremiah. “Sweet talk will get you most everywhere,” she said, her accent husky.
Jeremiah smiled, more comfortable than Jack would have liked him. Reaching for Jillian’s hand, Jeremiah lifted it to his lips and kissed the satiny brown skin. Locking his gaze to hers, he replied, “It only gets sweeter from here.”
Jack felt an instant resentment over Jeremiah’s intrusion. This was Jack’s score, not his. “Have a seat,” he said, indicating the stool next to him. “I’ll buy you a drink. Care for the usual?” he asked, making sure Jeremiah heard him loud and clear. The usual, as in I know this woman, I know what she likes.
Jillian smiled between the two. “Yes. That would be fine.”
As she slipped onto the barstool, Jack took her in more thoroughly, surprised by her appearance in town. He imagined her previous hasty departure had something to do with Nick and Delaney, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d heard talk of threats and past quarrels but nothing concrete. One thing he was sure of—he was glad to see her. “So how long are you in town?”
She smiled sweetly, then pursed her glossy lips. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“On how successful I find my time in your small town.”
Upon the addition to their party, the bartender appeared. “What can I get for you?”
“The lady will have a Cosmo,” Jack ordered.
The kid tipped his head and went to work, drawing a martini glass from an overhead shelf slide, then reaching for a bottle of vodka, a container of cranberry juice and some ice. “So,” Jack began, savoring her presence, the spicy perfume emanating from her body. Her cleavage was prominently displayed for his enjoyment, impeded only by strips of her shiny black hair. “What’s on the agenda? Another land purchase? Resuming your hotel plans?” Before she could answer, he waggled his brow. “I sure would enjoy seeing Harris Hotels struggle against some competition.”
“They will get what’s coming to them,” she said, her thick Spanish accent catching on the “them.”
“Sounds more ominous than business,” Jack observed. Sounded to him more like a vendetta. Was Jillian jealous? Was that why she was here? During their time together last fall, Jillian had mentioned she and Nick used to be partners. Bringing his glass to his lips, Jack wondered if it included the bedroom. Knowing what little he knew of the woman, it wasn’t a stretch to assume that partnership included a romantic interest.
Jeremiah sat idle, though clearly dialed into their conversation.
Jillian simply smiled, refusing to elaborate.
The ring of a cell phone rose from Jeremiah’s waistband. Unclipping the phone, he answered, “Hello?”
Jack watched Jillian who was watching Jeremiah. A placid smile sat on her mouth, but Jack detected a keen interest in the depths of her dark gaze. Did she find Jeremiah attractive?
“See you in a few,” Jeremiah said, then ended the call. Downing the last of his drink, he slapped a twenty dollar bill on the bar as the bartender arrived with Jillian’s chilled red drink. “Been expecting that call and gotta go.” Sliding off the rear of his stool, he stood and withdrew a business card from his wallet. “Good to see you again, Jack.” Handing the card over to him, he said, “Give me a call. We’ll talk.”
Jack took the card and slipped it into his back pocket. “Will do. And good to see you, too. Glad to know we’re of like mind.”
Jeremiah tapped Jillian with a gaze and grinned. “You bet we are.”
Jillian pulled the angular glass closer to her. “A friend of yours?”
“An old friend.”
She sat expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. Jack wasn’t going to go into detail but figured a little couldn’t hurt. She didn’t know the man. “That’s Jeremiah Ladd. Delaney’s cousin.”
“Ah...” she responded. Raising her glass ever so slowly, Jillian brought it to her lips and took the smallest sip, hardly leaving a lipstick mark. Setting it down, she looked to Jack. “You knew him growing up?”
“Sure did. We hung out—when he wasn’t hanging around Delaney, that is.”
“Kissing cousins?” she asked, a hint of mockery in her bronze gaze.
“No, nothing like that. Delaney was a Tomboy and Jeremiah close in age. They lived on the same property, so it made sense they’d spend a lot of time together. We all hung out together in high school.”
“I see.”
Jack wasn’t convinced that she did, but at the moment he didn’t care. He only had one thing on his mind when it came to Jillian Devane. “So where are you staying?”
Jillian pursed her glossy tawny lips, the move causing a tingle in his loins. “Is that an invitation?”
“You know you have a standing invitation, doll.”
She smiled. “I thought I’d check in to the new hotel.”
“Pretty brazen move, don’t you think?”
Jillian raised her glass to him and replied, “Do you not think I will be welcome?”
“I do not, but I doubt that will stop you.”
She winked, and sipped. “It won’t.”
Chapter Four
Delaney closed the door to her office. Walking back to her desk, phone at her ear, she said, “There’s still no sign of the horses, Cal. I’m afraid they might have been picked up.”
“Let’s hope not, but I hear what you’re saying.”
“I was hoping you could give Beau a call. Put the word out in case any of them show up.�
� Delaney didn’t want to think the worst but facts were facts. Blue had not surfaced and she of all horses knew her way around this land. If she was gone, it might be due to foul play. Beau Foster was Cal’s brother and head man over at Misty Mountain Ranch. Cal’s family bred horses and knew the players in the industry. If someone picked up the horses and tried to sell them, Beau could find out.
Unless of course the person responsible kept the animals for themselves.
“No problem,” Cal replied. “As soon as we hang up, I’ll give him a ring. Besides Blue, how many others are you missing?”
“At this point only Blue and Spirit.” The two animals that meant the most to Felicity and Troy. “We found the others in the forest, on the back side of the stables.”
“Okay, and Delaney—”
“Yes?”
“Don’t give up. We’ll find those horses.”
She heaved a sigh and rolled her gaze through the plate-glass window, where a view of a stable full of horses served as constant reminder. The lengthy corridor cut between two dozen stalls housing quality horses. Most were new to Delaney but Cal understood the implications. Felicity’s horse had been with her since grade school and Spirit...well, Spirit was fast-becoming Troy’s professional salvation. Delaney didn’t want to lose either animal, but the loss would hit her kids hardest. Her kids. Troy was like one of her own. A kid who’d had a rough go of it lately, the only bright spot being the birth of his daughter, Cassidy Jo Grace. “Thanks, Cal.”
Ending the call, memories of the emergency delivery in the barn pulled warm feelings of pride. Casey had gone into labor two months premature and Troy had saved the day, single-handedly delivering his child amongst the hay and dust. Fortunately Cassidy was healthy and happy, coming home from the hospital after only a few weeks. Delaney shook her head. Troy was amazing. There was no other word to describe him. But his hardships weren’t over. Jack continued to press forward with his phony charges of assault, jeopardizing Troy’s freedom. If she couldn’t convince a judge and jury that Troy had only attacked Jack in the act of defending her, he would go to jail.
Losing Ladd Page 3